


so tender is your touch

by JustCharlieBruh



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: Fallen Hero: Retribution Spoilers, Herald Headcanon, Late night cuddling, Nonbinary Character, Other, Slight Cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22359463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustCharlieBruh/pseuds/JustCharlieBruh
Summary: He jokes that it's a gravitational field that brings them together, but they're pretty sure it's just his stupid, bright smile. They hate how much they love him— not really, they're just really fucking bad at talking shit out.
Relationships: Herald/Sidestep (Fallen Hero)
Kudos: 8





	so tender is your touch

**Author's Note:**

> (Three points in time, each dealing with tender touches between Kit and Herald.  
> 1- Late night cuddling  
> 2- Early morning flight/evening Spring cleaning  
> 3- Things go wrong and then right again)

It’s midnight by the time Danny crawls back into bed. Kit’s on their back: half-awake and lethargically flailing amongst the pile of pillows when his weight makes the mattress shift. They scrub at their face, grunting quietly when the full force of his love (basically him) lands on them. He settles his ear over their heart as if he wants to hear every beat. His exhausted tenderness causes them to crane their neck and stare down at him as he somehow has enough energy to beam up at them like they’ve built the sun for him. Kit still finds it so surprising that he loves someone like them as much as he does. Every night he holds them gently as if they set the stars into motion and call the winds upon this horribly jagged city, soothing the seasonal heatwaves that both of them have always hated. 

“Hi,” they peel apart dry lips with their tongue, blinking up in exhaustion at the lilac of their ceiling when his fingers carefully twine with theirs, “you've come home early this time.” They spare a glance at the alarm clock, an eye-burning 12:03 AM stares back in reprimand as if to accuse them, _are you even going to sleep tonight?_ While they don’t have an answer to the question their alarm clock poses, they instead comb his hair back with their free hand and hum as he tightens his grip on them. As if they're going to disappear when he next blinks. Like they would ever leave him willingly. Well, they would if they need to use the bathroom, but still—

They press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, squeezing his fingers a bit tighter just to show much they missed him while he was gone. Not that he was gone for long- only a few hours to deal with a robbery nearby- but even then their life had been colder without him. He relaxes onto them, sighs in such apparent relief; it makes them create a mental note to ask about what went wrong. Later, though, when the sun rises and the shadows behind his eyes aren't as dark. First, they need to get him comfortable enough to sleep and falling asleep on them certainly isn't the way to do it. So on to their side, they turn, letting their arm cushion his head as he slumps on to the mattress.

“Heavy,” they mutter, it's a weak excuse, but worth it; the moonlight filters through thin curtains and allows them to stare at him in his renaissance art-like beauty as he hums. The noise reverberates through their stomach, sends a chill up their spine as the bed creaks with his movement. He lifts himself, never untangling their fingers, inches up all the space until between them disappears and Shark can hop on to the bed. Their dog nestles herself in the space between their legs and Kit only has that to distract themself for a moment before they realize he’s practically nose-to-nose with them. They fight the urge to lean back, huffing under their breath, "shit—"

“Hi there,” he smiles like starlight, breathtaking and beautiful and maybe also a bit stunning because he plants a simple kiss on their lips soon after and they barely have enough brain to act, “I’m sorry I came home late.”

“Didn’t you hear me the first time,” they croak, squinting at him, “you came home early this time ‘round.”

“Did I now?” The curve of his lip is so gentle, soft and sweet in a way that doesn’t make their teeth ache, but it’s a close thing, “even though it’s already midnight?”

They feel their eye drifting shut, “you usually come home around three or four,” they feel his forehead compress against theirs, feel the brushing of his lashes against their cheeks and they hum, “this damn city never sleeps.”

He laughs, quiet and fond of their cynicism in a way that still blows their mind. They quite like his laugh. It's soft, gentle like rolling tides whispering against the beach and Kit can never get enough of the sound. They're ready to drift again thanks to it, slowly getting lulled to sleep as they feel his arm wrap heavy around them over the comforter like a second of cover. But it's the fact that he's _over_ the comforter that makes them cling to consciousness because their idiot’s not even going to try to fall asleep under the blanket. Like he's ready to go out at any moment; like the Rangers would dare to call on him again in a short amount of time. The thought of it makes them snort in the back of their throat. Kit knows the Rangers won't, they know because they've laid down the rule of 'if he's gone home for the night, then he's gone home, do not call, please _fuck off_ ' and made sure they were heard loud and clear. So they shimmy, feel the fabrics rustle and get trapped under his weight.

“Danny,” they struggle to get his name out as questioning noise lifts from his chest, “Danny, get under the fucking blanket.”

They tug on the quilt again, a frustrated click rising from them as they pointedly nudge him to the open space beside them.

“So bossy,” his laugh is smooth, exhausted and they just make a noise, too tired to open their eye, “Kit, love—”

“Daniel, so help me,” they drop into a snarl, cracking their eye open, “you can stay in the suit, just cuddle me under this damned blanket—”

They interrupt themself with a yawn as their world shifts; Daniel disappears for a moment along with the comforter, leaving them weightless and cold and a bit annoyed before he returns. It settles over both of them with him patiently allowing Kit to latch to his warmth as soon as he’s within grabbing distance. His arms are steady, wrapping around them, the mattress bouncing under both of them for a moment thanks to the force of his landing as his lips find their forehead. They take a beat of silence to just breathe, take in the small slice of time that they’ve been allowed to have. That damn suit of his is still on and smells faintly of rain on the horizon, but as his fingers make their home in their hair, Kit can't find a reason to complain. They yawn again, settling to bury their face into the crook of his neck.

"I just want to say," he whispers as if they've already fallen asleep, his voice reverberating through their skull, "that I love you, Kit."

His honest admission has their thoughts spiraling even as sleep draws ever closer. Their thoughts are a slow crawl as Morpheus comes to claim them, but they think they love him too.

Saying it, however, is a whole different matter. 

They'll leave it for tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Herald, trying to sneak into his own apartment: M—  
> Kit, not even opening their eye as they sleep in his bed: come in here and snuggle me, u fuc—i love you.


End file.
